


Cradle

by vitrine



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, One Shot, Past Relationship(s), Scisaac - Freeform, Slash, idk - Freeform, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitrine/pseuds/vitrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was usually Scott who held everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> I had a point and I lost it somewhere. This is my first TW fic ever, and it was supposed to just only be Scisaac, but yeah. I'm not too sure of this, but here it is

It was usually Scott who held everyone. With Allison, his body would press into hers, hands holding hers as they lay in her bed, talking quietly of everything. Other times it was his hands on her waist and her head on his shoulders as they swayed to the soft music on the radio. Lying on rooftops at night with his body lined up with hers, tiny bright stars above them. Allison’s told him plenty of times she liked it when he hugged her tight. Liked the rare calmness that would settle around them and make everything feel okay, feel normal.

Within Scott’s and Stiles’s long years of friendship there’ve been times when they’ve “cuddled.” (Though Stiles wasn’t fond of the term and would rather Scott not mention it outloud, accident or not.) Late-night sleepovers where they’ve tried to stay up to finish the “ _lame but must-watch_ ” sci-fi flick on Scott’s laptop, only to fall asleep. Stiles would manage to curve his backside into Scott, with the boy’s arms just absently going around Stiles. In the morning, Scott joked he heard Stiles mumble to “ _come closer_ ,” and Stiles would replied, “ _You’re the one always trying to put the moves on me_.”

Then Isaac, he seemed to always crave physical contact, and Scott was willing to give it to him. To tangle his hands in the boy’s curls while they kissed in the empty locker room, or one hand lightly on Isaac’s back while Scott worried over him. On nights Isaac decided to sleep over at Scott’s house, his body would become too hot, teeth gritted as the nightmares dwelled on in his mind. Isaac wouldn’t stop shaking or breathing hard till Scott’s arms enveloped him, his mouth placing kisses on his neck as he mumbled, “ _You’re okay. I’m here_.”

Sometimes it was the other way around: Isaac would come up behind Scott and hug him. Or he was the first to wrap himself around Scott after they were flushed and done from sex. He towered over Scott by a few inches, long limbs comforting him. Scott liked the change—liked that he could be held in return. 

It was nice to hold someone, to be their source of warmth and safety. But Scott liked that he could seek it for himself, and be able to find it in someone else’s arms.


End file.
